


A Night Without Armor

by madame_meretrix (laisserais)



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Fantasy, M/M, Shapeshifting, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laisserais/pseuds/madame_meretrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Description</b>: The moral of the story is: If you're gonna hunt dragons on the mountain, don't forget to bring something shiny. And a sword might be good, too.</p><p><b>Warnings</b>: Jared is a shapeshifting dragon. Misha has toenail fungus. Jensen isn't a very good dragon hunter.</p><p><b>Notes</b>: written in answer to the prompt: [<i>Everybody knows that a dragon lives in the caves behind Jensen's village. Not that many villagers have seen it but there are plenty of stories of cattle going missing and knights travelling there on quests only to later return scorched and terrified.</i></p><p>
  <i>One day Jensen and his friends are messing around and he gets dared to go up into the mountains and steal an item from the dragon's treasure hoard. Jensen figures he'll borrow a piece of his mothers jewellery and hang about on the side of the mountain before sneaking back down and pretending to have seen the dragon. What he doesn't expect is to meet a mysterious man lounging on the mountainside and who seems rather reluctant to let Jensen leave...</i>
</p><p><i>Basically I want shifting dragon!Jared who wants to add Jensen to his treasure collection.</i>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night Without Armor

**Author's Note:**

> exmanhater has made a podfic of this. You can find it [here](http://amplificathon.livejournal.com/945682.html) or [here](http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/night-without-armor).

  


  


  
**A Night Without Armor**   


"Don't be absurd," Jensen says, shoving Misha back a step.

"It's fine, you don't have to. We'll just know that you're coward and you'll never live it down, but, you know, no big deal." Misha knocks shoulders with him and Jensen's pail almost spills over. They're heading back to the village from the river.

"I'm not going to prove my manhood to you by sleeping on the mountain, and watch it, I'm losing water, here."

"Go on, then, Jenny. Run home to your mama like a good little girl."

"If it's so brave to sleep on the mountain, why haven't you done it?"

"Who says I haven't?"

Jensen makes a noise of disbelief. "Right, and you just happened to forget mentioning that feat of derring-do until right now."

Misha shrugs. "I don't tell you everything."

"Yes you do," Jensen says, and shifts his pail to his other hand. "You told me about the time Sasha let you get to second base after too much ale _and_ you told me about the fungus under your toenail. In fact, man, sometimes I wish you _wouldn't_ tell me stuff."

Misha snorts. "Yeah. That fungus itched something wicked."

Shuddering, Jensen says, "If you really did go up there, what's the dragon look like?"

"The first thing you notice is the size." Misha spreads his arms out as far as they'll go. "It's enormous. And its teeth." He shakes his head in horror. "Each one like swords. And then when it screeches and whirls in the sky, you're scared for your immortal soul."

"Hm," says Jensen. He doesn't believe Misha any further than he could throw him. "It does sound terrifying."

Nodding, Misha says, "The only reason I escaped with my life was I'd brought a little bauble I'd gotten off a gypsy caravan. It had a gold casing, and when the dragon came near, I flung it at him."

"How'd you know it was a he?"

"If that was a girl, I'd hate to see how big the male dragons get."

Jensen thinks about it. They're almost to the village square now, and about to part ways. Finally he says, "I'll do it," and Misha turns big eyes on him, as if he doesn't believe what he's hearing. "On one condition. You give me your hunting knife when I come down."

"No way, it's the finest knife in town!"

Shrugging, Jensen says, "That's the deal. One night on the mountain for your knife." He looks at Misha from the corner of his eye. If he'd been playing a game of chicken or just having a bit of fun, now the stakes are higher.

And besides, Jensen has always coveted Misha's knife. It's the finest blade for leagues, forged steel and an engraved hilt. It's the easiest wager he's ever made.

"Fine," Misha says, never one to back down. "Tomorrow at dawn, I'll see you off."

"It's a deal," says Jensen.

"Don't forget to bring something shiny."

Jensen trudges off in the direction of his mother's cabin.

*

He's got a bundle under one arm as he waits by the village wall. Misha's late and he runs up, out of breath.

"I didn't think you'd be here," Misha says.

"I keep my word. And you better, too. Tomorrow I'm going to have that knife off you."

"Yeah," says Misha. "Well, you still have a full day's climb and the entire night up there, don't put all your eggs in one basket."

Jensen looks up in the direction of the mountain, where the top of it is obscured by clouds. No one in living memory has scaled it; no one has dared to go beyond the riverbank since rumors of a dragon began to spread.

"Piece of cake," he says, grinning. "See you tomorrow."

"God speed," says Misha.

It's an easy ramble down to the river, and Jensen chooses a shallow part to cross, keeping his bundle on top of his head as he wades through it. On the other side there's a middling-size forest and then the steep terrain gets rocky. He stops at the edge of the forest and pulls a length of rope from his bundle, along with an apple. Securing his possessions to his back, he hums as he scales the foothills of the mountain, munching his apple as he goes.

It's a fine spring day and birds are soaring through the blue. An occasional deer raises its head from grazing to watch him go by.

They say that a long time ago, the people of the village used this land for pasture: sheep, goats and cows ranged for miles up the hillside. But then the terror began. A drastic reduction in livestock only seemed to prove that the village was cursed.

The elders had been undecided about what manner of beast it was that plagued them, but they'd unilaterally decided to cede the territory. That's when they built the wall. Jensen remembers watching his father go out of a morning, tousling Jensen's hair and giving his mother a kiss. He'd go out and make bricks all day, coming home at dusk covered in mud.

Those are some of Jensen's happiest memories. The wall incomplete, his father still alive.

It's a long trek to the top of the mountain, and Jensen stops periodically to rest. When the sun is at its highest point he finds a patch of shade and a rock and spreads out his pack, pulling a loaf of bread and some cheese from it.

So far this adventure has been...uneventful. The climb's steady but not hard. There have been no indicators that he's getting anywhere near a dragon's lair. Of course, he's not sure what, exactly, he should be on the lookout for, but Misha had said that there's a cave about halfway up, and that all Jensen had to do was follow the trail of bones to find it.

There's absolutely zero chance that Misha has even stepped foot this far up the mountain, let alone spent the night. When they were kids, Misha had been afraid of the shadows cast by the fire. Stories about the crone who lived at the edge of the forest set him off into sobs of fear. Hell, probably getting to second base with Sasha had sent him into a tizzy; of anyone in the village, Misha is the last person to know a thing about dragons.

Still, Jensen keeps his eye out for bones anyway, just in case.

Along with the cheese and bread, his bundle holds a golden locket that he'd stolen from his mother's keepsake box. He doubts she'll miss it because she never wears it. Inside are smAll oval portraits of herself and Jensen's father. It was a wedding gift. He clicks it open now, feeling a little guilty. If he loses it up here, he definitely will have hell to pay.

"Nice locket."

Jensen looks up in shock. Someone had snuck up on him, unheard. "Thanks," he says.

The lightfoot is a boy, young, maybe younger even than Jensen. He's dressed in the clothing of civilization—leather jerkin, fine linen shirt and trousers—but his hair is long like a savage. And he's smiling.

"I'm Jared," says lightfoot.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jensen."

"Jensen," Jared says his name like he's tasting wine. "What are you doing here, Jensen?"

"Uh," he puts the locket and the rest of his lunch back into the bundle, tying it quickly. No telling what sort of person Jared is. "Actually," he says, thinking about it and laughing. "I'm hunting for the dragon."

"Dragon?" Jared says it like any normal person would: a touch of incredulity, perhaps some doubt of Jensen's sanity.

"Yeah, it's silly, I know. A friend of mine made a wager that I couldn't spend a whole night up here."

"Ah," says Jared, nodding. "And so here you are, to prove him wrong."

"PrEtty much."

"What will you do if you do find the dragon?" Jared's still standing over him and from where he sits on the rock, it looks to Jensen like Jared is a giant.

He stretches and subtly, slowly, gets up. It doesn't do much good; Jared's still a giant. "Honestly? Probably scream like a girl and run for my life."

Jared laughs at that, a deep and hearty laugh. Jensen can feel himself pink up. "I mean, I'm no coward," he says, and then, "I'd stand up to any man, but. You know. Mystical creature who breathes fire? Not so much."

  
Jared's smile is brilliant. "You mean you didn't bring a sword? What about all the treasure? You kill the dragon, it could be yours. And then you could woo your fair maiden."

Jensen scratches the back of his head. "Um, there's no maidens who currently need wooing. And also, I forgot to bring a sword." In fact, nowthat he thinks about it, he didn't bring any kind of weapon at all. That's kind of dumb.

"You're the queerest hero on a quest I've ever seen," says Jared. "No offense."

Jensen grins. He supposes from a stranger's point of view, it is rather a weird situation. "None taken," he says.

"So where do you suppose the dragon's lair is?" Jared's stubbing the toe of his boot against the rock, looking like he might be interested in coming along, only he's too shy to ask.

"I don't know. Misha—that's my friend—he said all I had to do is follow the trail of bones."

Jared snorts like that's absurd. Jensen remembers that although he's told this guy what his deal is, Jared hasn't mentioned what his business consists of. He says, "What are you doing up here?"

"I live here."

"I thought everyone moved down to the village a long time ago."

"They did," Jared says, nodding in agreement. "It's pretty lonely sometimes, but mostly I like it."

Jensen can hardly believe what he's hearing. "Where's your family? Aren't you scared to be roasted alive?"

Jared quirks him a smile, silent for a minute, and then, "My folks died a while ago."

"I'm sorry."

Shrugging, Jared says, "It's okay. I was young, I barely remember. So, if you're on a quest, you're going to need a companion, right? Someone to listen to your boasts of heroic deeds and make a fire?"

Jensen smiles. He'd figured that's what this is about. "Sure," he says. "What kind of knight doesn't have a servant?"

"I wouldn't go that far. I mean, I'm not going to start calling you 'sir' or anything, but I know the terrain pretty well, I could help you avoid some of the nastier surprises up here."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, I'm not doing anything else."

"Awesome. Let's go."

And they do. Jensen follows Jared's lead as they scale the spiny ridge and on up into the clouds.

*

"Gotta say," says Jared, turning his head to speak over his shoulder. Jensen's at least a yard behind and struggling for breath; Jared doesn't seem to have even broken a sweat. Jensen supposes it comes of living up here all his life. "So far, there's been a distinct lack of bones."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"Are you sure there's a dragon?"

"...No. I don't even believe that it exists, which is why I'm here." Jensen pauses, leaning against a jagged outcropping. Jared comes back down to meet him. "If I thought there really were a threat, I'd hightail it back to the village."

"So wait, no one's actually seen it?"

Jensen shakes his head. "Nope."

Jared blinks at him. "Well...then. Why does everyone think it's here?"

Shrugging, Jensen looks away. "Before I was born, there were some...incidents. Flocks going missing, terrible noises in the night. And eventually some of the village elders sent a party up here, looking. One of them never came home. It was--" Jensen doesn't know why it's hard to talk about, it's been years. He starts again. "It was my father."

Jared looks at him for a long time, before saying, quietly, "I'm sorry."

They don't talk for a minute. Jensen looks at the view. It's spectacular. Beyond the patchwork quilt of the village and its farms stretches more forest, all the way to the sea.

"Can I—" Jared coughs and Jensen looks over. "Can I ask, because I'm still not getting it. Why do people think a dragon's responsible for all of that? I mean, it's kind of like hearing hooves and assuming zebras."

Jensen doesn't know what a zebra is, but he takes the point. "I guess it's easier to assume a mythical beast is responsible than just plain old bad luck."

"Hm," says Jared. "I guess so. You know, even if dragons existed, which I'm not saying they do, maybe they're getting a bad rap."

"Huh?"

"I mean, just 'cuz something's different doesn't make it evil, right?"

That's a perspective Jensen's never taken on the subject. But then, "You think it's not evil for a creature to eat babies and roast cattle alive?"

Jared makes a startled noise. "Is that what dragons do?"

Shrugging, Jensen says, "If they existed, which they don't, who knows what they'd be capable of? They like shiny objects and eating babies, if they like anything at all."

"Mm," says Jared. "I can see you've reasoned this out." He looks away, up the mountainside, and then back down at Jensen. "Come on, we're wasting daylight."

They continue their ascent. It's getting colder the further up they go and Jensen starts to shiver. Behind him the world is slipping away.

*

"Looks like this is as far as we'll get tonight, why don't we set up camp in that cave?" Jared's standing on a flat rock that's jutting out from a plateau. He's pointing somewhere that Jensen can't see, because the last mile or so, he's had to climb hand over hand, straight up the rock-face. Now he's just about reached Jared's ankles.

"Little help?" he says, and Jared leans down to pull him up. "Thanks," Jensen says.

When he's caught his breath, he looks around. They're in a clearing, a soft and green meadow and beyond it, Jensen can see, there's an opening in the rock. It's slim, covered by foliage. Jensen definitely would have missed it if he'd been alone. "Good eye. Glad you're helping me scout."

Jared turns to him with a grin. "I think I hear a spring nearby. You want to check it out? I'll start a fire."

"Cool. Be right back," Jensen says, and heads in the direction Jared points.

Sure enough, there is a spring, babbling away and ice cold. Jensen takes great heaping handfuls of it, scrubbing his hands and face, gulping it down so fast he starts to get a headache. Even though it's cold up here, the water is refreshing. An all-day hike up a mountain had seemed like a good idea this morning. Now he feels as though he could sleep for a week.

He strips a length of bark from a nearby tree and fashions a makeshift cup, filling it up to take to Jared.

Finding his way back to the cave is easy, all he has to do is head toward the column of smoke rising above the trees. "You're the best quest companion I've ever had," says Jensen as he hands the cup over.

Jared takes a swig. "You mean you've had more than one?"

"Well, no. But still. Nice work on the fire. That was fast."

"Yeah, well, I've had practice. Here, come sit down."

Jensen goes, grateful for the respite. His arms and legs are aching, and Jared's made a sort of nest out of leaves, close enough to the fire to warm them up. "Thanks, man."

Unpacking his bundle, Jensen saYs, "You want to share this? It's not much, but you must be hungry after all that climbing." He offers the crust of his bread to Jared, who takes it. The only thing left from his pack is the rope and the locket. He coils the rope in a pile and slips the locket over his head. Jared watches him do it.

"Thanks."

Jensen drapes the blanket around his shoulders and hunches over. Jared stretches out and they pass the bread and cheese back and forth, eating in relative silence.

"Are you—" Jensen's not sure why he feels awkward, but he can feel himself blush as he says, "Are you cold? We could share this," he flaps a hand, waving the end of the blanket at Jared.

"Hm? Nah, I'm good. Actually, it's a little warm." He gets up and unties the strings of his jerkin, bringing it over his head. Jensen gets a flash of skin, taut over hipbones as Jared undresses. He coughs, shifting his weight. "So I was thinking," Jared continues, dropping the jerkin to the ground. "Why don't we take shifts? One of us keeps watch while the other one sleeps. You look beat, so I can take the first watch."

Jensen yawns, wide and sudden, and he realizes that he is exhausted. But it hardly seems fair, seeing aS how Jared's already done so much for him. "You don't have to."

"I'm really not sleepy," Jared says, and he grins his blinding grin again. "Seriously, it's cool. Sleep. I promise I'll wake you up if I see anything good."

"Are you sure?"

"Totally."

"All right. Thanks." Jensen tips over, wrapping the blanket around his feet.

"Here," Jared gets up and offers his jerkin. "Roll this up for a pillow."

He looks up. The expression on Jared's face is concerned. Kind. Jensen accepts it with, "Thanks. I really appreciate your help today. Don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found me."

"Probably would have fell off a cliff by now." And the grin is back. Jensen feels an answering grin across his own face. "Sleep. I'll wake you up in a little while."

"Kay," says Jensen, and then his eyes are closing of their own volition.

*

The noise is terrible, like the sky ripping apart. Jensen's awake with a start, unsure at first where he is. Then he sees the dying embers of the fire and he remembers: mountain, dragon, noise. He looks around the clearing, but Jared's nowhere to be found.

The noise comes again, a boom like thunder, and then there's an arc of fire across the sky.

"Jared!" Jensen's up like a shot, running through the clearing like a wild man. "Jared! Where are you? I think it's the dragon."

Jared is nowhere to be found and the noise comes again, this time accompanied by what Jensen could swear is the sound of giant leathery wings flapping. "Shit!" he says, all in a panic. What if Jared wandered off? What if he's being roasted alive right now? "Jared!"

The screech gets louder and Jensen's freaking out. Looking around, he sees the mouth of the cave behind him and makes a mad dash for it, all the while his heart beating in his ears.

He barely has the guts to look behind him as he makes it. He skids to his knees just inside the cave, breathing hard and terrified. Where the hell is Jared? It's pitch black outside, he has no idea how long he's been asleep. Half afraid of calling attention to himself, and half in desperate need to make sure Jared's okay, he calls out again, "Jared!"

The only reply is his own voice ricocheting off the inside of the cave. Jensen starts praying under his breath. He says, "I promise I'll believe everything everyone ever tells me, I promise to be a good son and never to complain about fetching water from the river. I promise not to make fun of Misha anymore. I promise. Just please."

He realizes he's rocking back and forth, and he makes himself stop. Freaking out right now will do him absolutely no good, so he takes a steadying breath and forces himself to calm down.

He blinks against the darkness. The light of the dying fire is casting shadows into the cave, outlines of the trees dance on the far side of their campsite. He prays again, "Please, just let Jared be okay."

Steady, calm breathing helps push the panic down. Jensen turns around to peer further into the cave. There's something catching light back there, something he can barely make out in the dimness. He gets up, stumbling against something on the floor, and goes to check it out.

What he sees chills his blood. He's rooted to the spot for what feels like an eternity, and then he's backing out of the cave as fast as he can.

It's a heap of glittering jewels. It’s a huge pile of loot, and it's tucked into a pocket of the cave wall with every sign of being the hidden treasure of someone—or something, a tiny voice in his head squeaks—who would be very upset to find Jensen in his lair.

He's backing up, preparing to run like hell, when he bumps into something behind him. He yelps, turns, ready to fight with his bare hands if he has to, and is surprised to find Jared standing there.

"Jared! Oh, thank god! We have to go, come on. This cave, I think it belongs to the dragon. Did you hear it? We have to go, come on!" Jensen's scrambling with their possessions, hopping on one foot to put his boots back on.

Jared's just standing there, staring at him with his head cocked to the side like Jensen's a lunatic. All of the relief he feels at Jared being alive starts to curdle into irritation. "What are you doing? It's coming back any second. Come on, Jared!"

"I don't think so."

Jensen's on the border of hysteria. "What? What are you talking about? It's going to roast us alive where we stand, let's go!"

"No, it won't." Jared's walking up to him, calm and smiling. Jensen's starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His mouth is a desert when he says, "It won't?"

"No," says Jared, and he's getting closer. Jensen still only has one boot on. He drops the other and stands to face Jared.

"Why not?"

"Because dragons don't eat people. Not even people who stumble into their lair. They also don't roast cattle or, really, set anything on fire. At least, not on purpose." And he shrugs.

In the light of the dying fire, Jensen could swear that Jared's eyes are glittering. He swallows tightly. This has been a terrible mistake. "They don't?"

"Nope." Jared's shaking his head and he takes another step. One more and they'd be sharing breath. Jensen's sure of it now, there's definitely something wrong with Jared's eyes.

As Jared reaches out a hand, Jensen closes his eyes with a sob. He feels Jared touch the locket at his throat and a chill runs down his spine. He sternly reminds himself that he's not a coward, and says, "Jared?"

"Hm?" He's fondling the locket now, petting Jensen's neck.

"You're the dragon, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Oh my god," Jensen says, and then he faints.

*

When he comes to, he discovers that he's bound hand and foot to a bed that's bigger than his entire house.

Jensen blinks and looks around. There are candles everywhere, flickering in an unseen wind. He's underground, he can tell that much; there are roots growing out of the ceiling. He tests the bonds, but pretty much as expected, they don't give.

He looks around as much as he can, and finally he catches sight of Jared across the room, back to Jensen. He's lost his shirt and his trousers are hanging low on his hips. Despite all that Jensen knows about what a monster he is, Jensen's finding it hard not to take notice of how fine his physique is.

Jensen shakes his head, willing the thoughts away. Jared is a freak. A freak who tricked him into his lair and who even now has him tied up, no doubt with evil and nefarious plans afoot.

"You're awake," Jared says, and he's beside the bed, looking down at Jensen. Jensen hadn't heard him move. He shudders.

"What do you want from me?" he croaks. His throat is parched.

Jared turns away, and then there's a cup being lifted to his lips and Jared's hand supporting his head as he takes a sip. "There you go. You were screaming so loud, I was afraid you'd done yourself an injury."

For some reason, the care with which Jared says it makes Jensen even angrier. He shakes his wrists in their bonds and says, "Let me go! You're a monster and you have no right to keep me here. Let me go, damn you!"

All that does, though, is make Jared chuckle. He sets the cup aside and sits on the edge of the bed. He runs his hand over Jensen's hair, smoothing it out of his eyes. "I'm a monster? Jensen, I don't think you have any idea what you're talking about."

"What do you call it, then? A beast who can change form, and trick innocent people into their lair, and then eats them."

"I told you," Jared says, and there's a hint of anger in his voice. "I don't eat people. If your definition of a monster is someone who doesn't look like you, then I guess we'll have to agree to disagree."

Jensen stops twisting his wrists and looks up. Jared's staring at him with a hungry look, and it's then that Jensen realizes he's stark, raving naked. He jolts against his bonds again, panic welling up in a whole new way.

"You see," Jared continues. "My definition of a monster is someone who kills indiscriminately, without understanding or caring what they're doing."

Jared gets up and paces away. Jensen watches in horrified fascination as Jared's back flexes, and then great dark wings are there, reaching up almost to the ceiling. Jared makes a noise like a sigh of relief. He turns back to Jensen with a look of sadness. Jensen's completely stunned.

"Your father killed my father," Jared says, quiet, like a bald fact, almost as bland as a comment on the weather.

"What?" Jensen's having a not inconsiderable amount of trouble keeping up with the conversation. First with the nakedness and then the wings, and now: "What?" he says again.

"The picture in your locket," Jared says, gesturing at the bed. JensEn looks down: it's the only article of clothing he's been allowed to keep. "I recognized it. It's your father, correct?"

"Yeah," Jensen says, wary.

Jared turns away again, wings flapping gently as he paces. "What you said before, about a party of villagers who came here looking for dragons. They found some."

He turns back, and the look of agony on his face has Jensen feeling sorry for him, despite everything.

"I was a child, barely more than five." He looks at Jensen. "In shifter years, that's practically an infant. My mother hid me here, under the earth, and then they both went up to face the mob. I was terrified, but I had to see what was happening. Kids," he says with a wry smirk. "So curious, you know? So I crept up to the mouth of the cave, and I watched as Mother and Father went out to where the villagers had taken up arms.

They were in their human forms, and they attempted to speak reason, but the villagers weren't having it. The first blow came from your father, who raised his sword and struck my father down. A man with no defenses, no weapons. Just killed him, in cold blood.

Mother, in self-defense, shifted immediately. She roared from the sky, breathing out an arc of fire and the villagers turned and ran. In their haste, some of them tripped and I saw your father fall. I watched as he clung to the side of the cliff, calling for help. Everyone else was long gone, though, no one stopping to help him.

Mother, gentle to the core, even in that moment, went to aid him. She shifted back to human and offered him her hand." Jared looks at him for a long moment, eyes piercing and jaw clenched. "Your father refused her help and let go, plummeting to his death."

Jensen gasps.

"So," Jared says, still sad but with a smile. "I'm sure you can see why my definition of 'monster' might be a little different from yours."

"Jared, I." Jensen has no idea what to say. They'd been wondering what happened to his father for so long, it's a little crazy to hear about it. And it's such a tragic story, so senseless.

But on the other hand, Jensen is currently tied to Jared's bed. So. Compassion's having a hard time coming out on top.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea. Are you going to kill me in retribution?" He's quite proud of himself for being able to ask the question.

Jared blinks at him and then makes a surprised kind of laugh. "What? No. Jesus Christ, Jensen, what do I have to do to prove that I _don't kill people?_ "

"Um. Well, untying me would be a good start."

Jared cocks his head like he's thinking. "Would you run away if I untied you?"

"Probably, yeah."

"You know I can outrun you."

"Yeah, but I'd still have to try. Dignity and all."

Jared chews his lip for a second, and then nods. He goes away and comes back with a loud clanking noise. "How about a compromise? I'll untie you, but I'll tether your ankle. That way you won't have to try and escape, but you'll get some range of movement back. Sound good?"

It's not exactly what Jensen had in mind, no. "You seem to have a lot of chains and cuffs. Do you do this sort of thing a lot?"

Jared smirks lewdly as he hovers over him, loosening his bonds. "What kind of an evil lair would it be if it didn't come fully stocked?"

"Is naked also a part of your evil plan?"

Jared's eyes rake up and down Jensen's body. It makes Jensen shiver, but, he's surprised to note, not in a bad way. "Well, honestly? Not that I mind sEeing you naked or anything, but." He turns away, focusing on arranging Jensen's ankle cuff. "Uh, your clothes had gotten uh." He looks up again and he's blushing. "Oh hell, you pissed yourself with fright. So I washed your clothes. You can have them back when they're dry."

Jensen's on fire with embarrassment. He shifts around until he can cover himself in The sheet and says, "Um, well, thanks."

"Mm-hm. Okay, there you go. All set."

Jared stands and Jensen finds that he's totally entranced by the wings. They seem to float up and down in a slow pulsing, almost like a nervous tick; they're never quite still. Jared catches him staring and arches an eyebrow.

Coughing, Jensen looks away. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm not ashamed of them. Keeping them hidden takes more effort than not, so when I'm at home, I usually let 'em fly."

"Sure, uh. I mean, I can imagine…" Jensen stops talking as soon as he realizes that he sounds stupid. Jared smiles at him.

"You want to touch them?"

There's that thrill again, the one that trips down his spine every time Jared comes near him. It's like half fear, have desire. It's weird. Definitely unsettling. "Can I?"

Jared sits on the bed with his back to Jensen. He bows his head and the wings settle, half folded around the front of him, plainly giving Jensen plenty of surface area to examine.

They're dark, like tanned leather, but alive and soft under his fingers. His first brush makes Jared shudder. "Sorry, does it hurt?"

"No," Jared says under his breath. "Feels good. No one's done that in a long time."

He imagines that's true. Jared had said before that his folks had died young; now he knows some of the details, but not all of them. "They're soft," he says in wonder. He touches them again and Jared jumps.

Jared looks at him over his shoulder. "They're sensitive, too."

"Sorry."

"It feels kind of like when someone tickles you, you know?"

"Yeah?"

"Mm."

Jensen continues his exploration, moving out from the shoulder blade, down to the tips where finger-like bones spread the skin gossamer thin. He supposes he should be creeped out, but he isn't.

He traces the veins back up to where the wings meet Jared's back. It's amazing, it looks all of a piece. If he hadn't already seen Jared without the wings, he would have thought that this is what he always looks like.

"Can I ask…"

"Yeah."

"Where do they go? Like this afternoon. You looked normal."

Jared stiffens, taking a long inhale. "I'm going to take that comment like how I think you meant it."

"Oh! Oh shit, sorry. I meant, yeah, this afternoon you looked like…like a human?"

"Better." There's warm amusement in Jared's tone. Jensen gets bolder, and rubs his fingertips into the join where wing meets skin. Jared leans into it, groaning.

"Does that feel good?"

"Amazing. When I shift fully into one or the other, I just, kind of, do? Like, I think about it, and then it happens. It feels kind of like stretching. And then I settle back and I'm a new shape."

"That's…" Jensen's mesmerized by the slow beat of Jared's wings in the air, unfurling and re-furling around him. "Wow. So, you said 'fully.' Does that mean you can change more?"

Jared pulls away slowly and turns to face him. "Yeah. This is how I feel most comfortable, but it's sort of like a hybrid? When I'm a dragon, you wouldn't be able to recognize me."

And for reasons best left unexamined, that thought profoundly disturbs him. Jensen looks away, shifting on the bed. It makes his chain clink and he focuses on it. "So, um. Now what?"

"You tell me," Jared says, spreading his hands. "You're the one who wants to spend the night with a dragon."

Jensen wonders if Jared means it to sound as dirty as it does. Once again he's acutely aware of being naked underneath the sheet.

When Jensen doesn't respond, he continues, "We could play Scrabble."

Jensen looks up and catches the hint of teasing in Jared's eyes.

*

In the end, they don't play Scrabble. Jensen's stomach growls and Jared gets up, disappearing down a dark corridor, returning minutes later with two steaming bowls of stew.

It's the most delicious stew Jensen's ever tasted. Of course, that could be down to the fact that he hasn't eaten a proper meal in over twenty-four hours, but nevertheless, he asks, "Are you magic?"

Jared takes a heaping spoonful of stew and then laughs, mouth open. It's weird, how charming Jensen finds it. When Misha talks with his mouthful, it's just gross. Jensen's beginning to wonder if maybe he feels something other than friendship for this strange creature.

"If I am, it's no more than you are." Jensen looks his question, and Jared continues. "Do you find it magical that you can run and jump and build things with your hands?"

"...No." It's the oddest question he's ever heard.

"Well. Why see magic in what I can do when it's as natural to me as...as. What do you do? I mean, back home?"

"Uh." Jensen chews his mouthful before he says, "I was training to become a blacksmith, but I wasn't very good at it. Lately I've been thinking I might take up weaving instead."

"Really? Why don't you think you'd be any good? You've got the muscles for smithing."

Jensen looks down at his arms and brings them in tighter to his body, as if he could hide them. "Um, thanks? I don't know," he says. "It's so loud and hot. It's hard work and what do you show for it? After all that, all you have is something utilitarian and ugly, like a shovel. Weaving, you get to make something beautiful, you know? Not just something useful, although of course it's that, too, but the thing you make is something that will make people happy. Who could be happy about a shovel?"

"I would, if you made me one."

Jensen snorts. That's got to be a line. It's too corny. "Yeah, okay."

"No, I"m serious. Dude, you try planting a garden when all you have to dig with is your claws."

Jensen coughs. "Do you have a garden?"

Nodding, Jared says, "Yep. And an orchard and a smokehouse. I do my own tanning, too."

"Wow. You're like a survivalist."

"Yeah," Jared says, and it sounds wistful.

Jensen sets his bowl on the floor and crosses his legs, facing Jared. "Why don't you come down to the village? You can pass for nor-- human. Why do you live up here all alone?"

Jared puts his bowl down, too, and leans against the head of the bed. "Honestly? Up until tOday, I figured humans were monsters. Brutal and savage. You're the first one I've met who's proved me wrong."

He takes a minute to think about that. He supposes that, if he'd experienced what Jared has, he'd have come to the same conclusion. "I'm sorry," he says, a whisper.

"It's not all bad. Being way up here has its perks."

"Oh yeah?" Jensen says. "Like what?"

"Like..." Jared stretches his arms behind his head, his wings folding in and practically disappearing. Jensen has an urge to crawl around behind him and see where they went. "I get to make my own schedule, for one." His eyes are laughing again when Jensen looks into his face. "And, you know, I never have to wait in line. Plus, I'm the scariest thing around, so I never have to lock the doors."

Snorting, Jensen lays down, propping himself up on an elbow. "You never have to rub sticks together to make fire."

"There's that."

"Great view."

"The best." This time when Jensen looks at him, Jared stares right back. It makes him feel funny and he sits up, clearing his throat.

"But what do you do for fun?"

"Have you ever flown through the air on a dragon's back?"

"Can't say as I have."

"You should sometime. It's awesome."

Jensen nods. He bets it is. His mind is inching in the wrong direction and he shakes his head. He says, "So, seriously, what's up with the chains?"

"I didn't want you to run away."

"Uh huh, and now?"

"You still thinking about making a break for it?"

"Not until my clothes are dry."

"Okay," Jared shrugs and sits up, fishes in his pocket and brings out a key. "Here." He unlocks the cuff on his ankle, resting his palm along Jensen's calf. Jensen hisses a breath.

"Thanks."

Jared resumes his previous posture, leaning against the wall and Jensen is extremely distracted, what with the not having a shirt on and all the muscles.

"Wait, so, you said that up until today."

"…Yeah?"

"Does that mean that you've met other people?"

"Of course. You can't have rumors of dragons guarding treasure without treasure-seeking dragon slayers showing up."

"Good point," Jensen says. "What did you do…to make them go away?"

"Are you asking me if I killed them?" Jared's staring hard at his face. Jensen is again ashamed. It's hard overcoming a lifetime of prejudices, but he's trying.

"I'm sorry, I know that you said—"

Jared sighs and cuts him off. "There are other ways of getting rid of pests besides killing them, you know." He sits up and his wings unfurl again, restlessly beating against his sides.

"I know, I know. I didn't mean it like that." He has the wildest impulse to reach out and soothe Jared. He refrains.

"This mountain is tricky. It's easy to get lost up here. Lots of people get turned around, thrown off track by spooky noises. Most of them leave their valuables behind when they take off."

"Is that what all that stuff is in the cave?"

Jared nods. "Yep. That's my loot pile, such as it is. Did you get a decent look at it?"

Jensen thinks back to the state he'd been in. "Not really."

Smiling, Jared relaxes. Jensen can tell because his wings calm down. "Maybe you can take a souvenir on the way out."

"How come you brought me up here? Why didn't you run me off like the others?"

Jared raises his eyebrows. "Well, for starters, have you looked in the mirror lately?"

Blushing furiously, Jensen rearranges the sheet in his lap. That's the most direct thing either of them has said about…whatever it is that's happening between them. He's pleased that Jared went first, but also totally embarrassed.

Continuing, Jared says, "And you didn't have a sword. That's a big one in my book. No sword and apparently no urge for glory."

"Yeah," Jensen says, laughing. "Guess I didn't really think that one through, huh?"

"On the contrary," Jared says, leaning over. "I think it was the best decision ever." And then he's brushing his lips against Jensen's.

It's not like he hadn't seen it coming, but he's still surprised, and he inhales, lips parting. Jared takes it as an invitation, slipping his tongue past Jensen's teeth.

Jensen slips his hands over Jared's shoulders and he can feel the wings flexing. He deepens the kiss, sliding his hands up and over the base of Jared's wings. It's kind of an awkward position, but it pays off when Jared groans into his mouth and tackles him to the bed.

Breaking off, Jensen says, "Have you ever had sex in midair?"

Jared leans up to look at him. "Not yet," he says, and Jensen grins.

*

Later, lying with his head on Jared's chest, Jensen looks up at the ceiling and says, "So, dragons: attracted to shiny things and virgins. Like to guard treasure. Breathe fire."

The laugh that rumbles Jared's chest makes his head bounce. "In a nutshell. Blacksmith-weavers: attracted to winged, mythical creatures, not ashamed to faint in the face of danger and surprisingly kinky."

Jensen rolls over and rests his chin on Jared's shoulder. "You liked that thing I did with my tongue?"

"Like? Pretty sure 'like' is an understatement."

Jensen wiggles his eyebrows. "How quick of a recharge rate do winged, mythological creatures have?"

"Oh baby," Jared says, rolling them over. "We're the stuff of legend."

The End

* * *


End file.
